America: Starting with Daily Intelligence
Chapter 116 - 113 Modern Brothers_2

Chapter 116: Chapter 113 Modern Brothers_2

"Insurance fraud, Zero-Dollar Purchase, can picking." Feis’s fashionable slang became smoother as he spoke, his spirit grew excited at the memories.

Soon, like a brief resurgence, he regained his spirits. "Buddy, what do you mean by this? You think I did it? I think I know who you are!"

"Oh? You remember who I am?" Allen Zhang inquired.

"Of course, you must be Juan Jin from Lori Louis 19! Buddy, from when you started mixing up to everything you’ve done now, I know it all! No doubt, you’re a man made for big things! Not like that black cripple sports star who only begs to be a good baby all day."

Feis chuckled with a hint of excitement, "Surviving the streets is brutal, whoever has the bigger fists makes the money, gets the women, the cars, and the houses, no problem there. But the most important thing is to use your brain more! Never let yourself get on drugs! That stuff will destroy your will and your life!"

"How did you end up like this then!" Allen Zhang was somewhat surprised.

He spoke well, not the kind of talk you’d expect from someone in his condition.

"Because I’m a loser." Feis decisively admitted, "Both my dead brother and I are losers, we offended people we couldn’t afford to offend! I used to refuse to do drugs, never touched addictive drugs, but ever since my leg got broken, and my brother was crushed into a paste by a car, I just resigned myself."

He lifted his own leg, which looked a bit unnatural, and it was only upon rolling up his pant leg that it was revealed to be a prosthetic.

"You know me well?" Allen Zhang asked.

"Not really. But I can feel your aura!"

Allen Zhang wondered how this guy could be such a smooth talker? Since he started, it was always him PUA-ing others, when did it become someone else’s turn to PUA him?

No wonder this guy could recruit dozens of people before, run it like a family business, and grow bigger and stronger!

Such a pity.

He was once a king of success studies on the West Coast, then later got dragged out and his legs broken.

"Since you understand everything, that simplifies things, we can talk about my friend’s matter."

Allen Zhang drew a handgun and placed it beside him, "Old Karl has spent a lot of money to commission us to retrieve the lost goods."

"How did you confirm it was me who did it?"

Feis Modern glanced at the handgun, not too rattled, just puzzled, "We seldom lay hands on others, and definitely wouldn’t go after a scrap collection station, isn’t that a job for Mexican workers and Europeans? How are you so sure it was us?"

"I have my methods, it’s none of your business." Allen Zhang went straight for compensation, "Either cough up Old Karl’s 3000 US Dollars or I will take something from you of equivalent value."

"Buddy, no need to threaten me, if it were the past I might have been scared to death, but now, just look at me! A white hobo cripple junkie, what could I possibly have of value? My blood is full of leaves and coco, even skin banks wouldn’t choose someone like me."

Feis burst out laughing, "I am not black or Asian, I am a useless white man, woohoo!! Long live the useless!!"

Allen Zhang: "..."

On the West Coast, hobos aren’t exactly prime candidates, among them, the physical quality and organ viability of white people are much poorer than that of blacks and Asians.

Although there are indeed many rich people who like black people on the West Coast, most of the local blacks are sick, finding one without a leaf addiction is hard.

Blacks native to Africa are the top choice. Next are children adopted from Asia.

Allen Zhang didn’t want to discuss this sensitive subject too much, "The Irish living in the sewers have already been dispersed and assimilated by me, and Jon is going to be sentenced too. If you don’t want to end up like him, or even worse, you can keep making excuses!"

"The money is already spent." Feis said.

"You got your hands on cans just yesterday, and you’ve spent it all by today, do you think we’re idiots?"

Sieg walked up and cursed, "The recycling station owner asked you to cause trouble elsewhere, obviously for the sake of the can business, right? You robbed Old Karl’s cans, there’s no way you sold them all off! You’re definitely hoarding them to wait for a price spike before selling in bulk, where did you hide those cans?"

He’d searched Camp 9 under the bridge for half a day and hadn’t spotted a single can.

Hearing what Sieg said, Allen Zhang looked towards the gloomy-faced Feis Modern and chuckled, "Spit it out, where did you hide the cans? Relax, as long as we get those cans back, or the 3000 US Dollars in cash, the debt between you and Old Karl will be written off! If you want to keep arguing, you’ll face the consequences."

"You’ve got the gun, you’re in charge, your word is law, I can do nothing but cooperate with you. I did indeed hide the cans somewhere else, in a small cabin in the suburbs, that was our former base for growing leaves."

Feis sighed helplessly, dragging his crippled leg as he mustered the strength to stand up and hobbled towards the tent under the bridge.

"Wait for me, I’ll go get the keys right now and then take you to the suburbs. Damn it, I really miss the days when my brother and I were living it up on the streets..."

He mumbled on as he walked away, crawling into the tent.